


Finish Line

by aheadfullofbooks



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Light-Hearted, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5858779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheadfullofbooks/pseuds/aheadfullofbooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“In the mood for a race Parrish?” His delight was infectious and Adam couldn’t contain a smile.</p><p>###</p><p>Adam and Ronan have some fun in PE class. Just a drabble for now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finish Line

Adam looked on at the brick colored track stretched out in front of him as it shone under the bright sun above. The teacher droned on and on, supposedly about whatever exercise they were about to do. 

Adam fidgeted, clammy hands rubbing on one another. They were lined up in the outdoor running track, in alphabetical order, and Adam _Parrish_ was practically all the way across the field. Adam could barely make out what the teacher was saying. He sighed - annoyed with the heat, annoyed with this class, annoyed with his useless ear – and turned his body towards the side of the track, focusing on the teacher’s lips. 

His gravelly tone was all Adam could make out. Though a competent teacher, Mr Hardy had the temperament of a small country dictator, his speech and choice of words a mix of authority and condescension. In fact, the whole Physical Education department at Aglionby believed that a militant teaching style, the humiliation of those not athletically gifted, and highly competitive exercises were key to a good education. 

They weren’t entirely wrong, Adam thought, as he looked at the line-up beside him. They were arrogant, pompous and elitist. In other words, perfectly suited for high society. 

“What the fu-?” 

Adam startled at the sudden outburst behind him and turned around. 

“Switch places with me.” It was an order, not a request. If Ronan’s tone hadn’t made that clear, his menacing stance did. The boy in the lane next to Adam’s chocked on the end of his sentence as he took in Ronan towering over him. 

“We-we’re supposed to be in order”, the boy dared answer. 

“Come on, man. As if Hardy cares.” The boy, defeated, simply turned around and headed for Ronan’s place in the middle of the line-up. 

Adam sometimes resented Ronan's disdainful attitude. He remembered those early days and how it felt to be at the end of his scorn. To be looked at as just another sheep in the herd, as someone not worthy of his time. Still, part of him couldn't help but to feel some sense of accomplishment at having won his respect. It was a privilege Ronan didn’t hand out to a lot of people, but once he did it was absolute. His friendship feed off an infinite source of love that he seemed both eager and reluctant to impart on to others. 

Adam turned briefly, making sure Mr Hardy hadn’t noticed the exchange. He was unaware and still talking, gesticulating aggressively. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” Adam asked. 

“200 meters sprint,” Ronan said, as if it was obvious. 

_So that’s what we’re doing_ , Adam thought. The devilish look on Ronan’s face spoke of something more though. His eyes were alight with mirth. 

“In the mood for a race Parrish?” His delight was infectious and Adam couldn’t contain a smile. A race was a race. And the adrenaline that came with the raw exertion of his body was as satisfying to Ronan as the feel of a car’s horsepower. 

“Well, what are the stakes?”

Ronan raised his eyebrows, surprised and impressed. “Damn, Adam! Now we’re talking.” Adam bit back a smile. “Say… The loser will hand wash the winner’s car. How does that sound?”

Adam smirked. Lean as he was, he couldn’t boast much in terms of muscle strength. Not like Ronan, whose toned arms only hinted at the power they could yield. No, Adam wasn’t strong, but Adam was fast. He lifted his head and stood a little straighter, welcoming the challenge. 

“You’re on.” He extended his hand and Ronan grasped it firmly. “Can’t wait to see you sprawled across the BMW with a sponge in your hand”, he answered with a wink. Adam’s blush spread like wildfire all over his body, and he could feel his hand heating up under Ronan’s grip. 

At the sound of movement around them, Ronan smiled but stepped back. All around them the class started getting into position. Mr Hardy had started towards the finish line, whistle already in hand. 

Ronan shot Adam one last cocky grin before he crouched down. He leaned forward, spine straight and shoulders back, ready to dive into the track. Adam let his eyes linger along the lines of his body leaning across the ground, tense with anticipation. The same standard navy shirt that flowed over Adam’s torso, was tight across Ronan’s muscles. 

He stole one last look at the dark tattoo peaking above the collar and took up position himself, relishing in the adrenaline. He usually despised any kind of one-on-one competition, more afraid of failure and humiliation than he’d care to admit. But this was Ronan, who despite all his sarcastic comments and mocking remarks, never made him feel like he was anything but his equal. That too was behind them. 

Feeling the rough ground under his fingers, he tensed his body in preparation for the start signal. 

The shrill of the whistle launched his body into motion.

Adam burst forward, feet pounding the ground, eyes locked on the finish line.

Just for a moment Ronan overtook him and Adam marveled at how elegant and swift his movements were. He was still no match for him though.

At first his spirit alone seemed to carry him. His breathing became rhythmic with his strides. It felt effortless, easy. Halfway through the muscles in his legs protested as he pushed himself to run faster. But it was worth it. He ran for himself, for the freedom and for the joy of it, but he ran for Ronan too, hoping to exhilarate him, to please him.

As the finish line drew closer and closer still, he ignored his burning lungs and maintained his pace. Ronan was just out the corner of his eye. He didn’t even register the rest of the boys around them, some of whom had already finished. They didn’t matter. 

Adam drew his chest forward through the finish line. Just a breath behind him, Ronan crossed by his side. 

_Shit, I won._

They came gradually to a halt, heart furiously beating, and their chests rising up and down as they struggled to catch their breaths. Those 30 seconds had felt infinitely longer.  
Adam was having a hard time keeping a smile off his face, breathless as he was. A chuckle sprung out of him, sudden and true. 

He was _really_ going to enjoy making Ronan publically state that he'd lost to Adam. 

Ronan didn't even seem to mind. He was laughing too, red faced, and breathless curses breaking through the bursts of joy. Adam’s chuckles turned to guffaws, his whole body shaking with laughter. Their glee was so unexpected and pure it made Adam's chest hurt with its intensity. Sometimes it was easy to forget they were still just teenagers and these stolen moments caught him by surprise, their innocence something foreign or long forgotten.

“I want to see the Hondayota shinning. Waxed and gleaming”. Victorious and proud, it was it his turn to be cocky. “And you should know, I’m going to thoroughly enjoy watching you.”

“If you think a wash will make that car any less shitty…” Ronan shot back, mouth sneering but eyes alight.

“Don’t be a sore loser, Ronan.”

“I’m not! I’m just saying. And hell, just for you, I’ll put on a show.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm @aheadfullofbooks on tumblr and anyone is welcome to stop by and shoot me a prompt. Thank you for reading!


End file.
